“Caught on the staples, you silly fool! But just to prevent any chance of survival, you’d better ignite the other can.”
For a moment there was silence, then the two at the top of the dining-room flue heard the same roar down the chimney and again the white hot flame rushed past them.
“Now are you quite satisfied?” whined the wheezing treble. “They are burned to a crisp, I tell you. Tomorrow I’ll have the chimney cleaned and their remains brought down. It’s too late tonight. Well, Lambert,” the voice went on testily, “what have you got to say to that? For a man who makes bad mistakes, you have become exceedingly critical.”
“Very good, Professor. But may I be allowed to suggest that they may have climbed out the top of the chimney before we started the gasoline? Even now they may be hiding on the roof.”
“Oh, no, they are not hiding on the roof, my dear young man! I grant you that the youth Bolton was a midshipman in the Navy and can probably climb like a cat. But we were a little too fast for them, Lambert—a little too fast. Ever since I knew they had taken to the chimney, Otto and Henry have been watching on the roof. Inasmuch as I see them both standing in the doorway now, I think we may take it for granted, my dear Lambert, that the intruders have departed—not escaped.” There was a wealth of ugly sarcasm in the old man’s tone. “Now, Otto,” he added sharply. “How about it? What’s your report?”
“Nuthin’ come up, sir, but the flames, sir. Them two is burned to a frazzle!”
“You see, Lambert—you see!” Professor Fanely’s wheeze was triumphant. “Perhaps Lambert, you will permit me to run my own affairs in future without interference on your part. Just remember that you are my paid employee—nothing more.”
Bill nudged the detective. “That ought to hold friend Lambert for a while,” he whispered. “I certainly hope nobody remembers that this vent leads into the main chimney.”
“Sh—! There’s Otto again.”
“Beg pardon, sir.” The deep tones floated up the chimney. “What shall we do about the stiff upstairs?”